he best. We will both pray for your dear
father, if he is still living; and for the little ones, that they may get
well."

After her long trial of the privations to be endured at Oakdale Academy,
Lulu greatly enjoyed the comforts and luxuries of Magnolia Hall; yet the
suspense in regard to her father and little sisters was very hard to
bear.

For two days longer there was no relief from that, but on the morning of
the third, Max came bounding in on his return from Viamede, where he had
been to make his usual inquiries about Grace and the baby, his face
glowing with happiness.

"Oh, Lulu, good, good news!" he cried, tossing up his cap and capering
about in the exuberance of his joy; "the children are considered out of
danger if well taken care of--and we know they'll be that; and papa's
ship has been heard from, all well on board; and we'll see him again, I
do believe; perhaps before a great while!"

Lulu wept for joy. "Oh, I am so glad, so happy!" she sobbed; "but oh, how
I do want to see papa! the children too. Can't I go to them now, Max?"

"No, not yet; they wouldn't let me go into the wing where they are. I
mean the doctors wouldn't; because the danger of contagion is not over,
and won't be for a week or more."

"So long to wait?" she sighed.

"Yes," Max said, "but we ought to wait very patiently, now that we have
had such glorious news. And perhaps there'll be letters from papa by
to-morrow."

His hope was fulfilled: the next morning's mail brought letters from
Captain Raymond to his wife and each of his children--the baby, of
course, excepted.

Max handed Lulu hers.

She almost snatched it from him in her joy and eagerness, and hurried
with it to her room, where she could be quite alone at this hour, Evelyn
being at school; for she was finishing out the term, not having the same
reason for leaving before its close that Max and Lulu had.

But now that she held the precious, longed-for missive in her hand, Lulu
could scarce find courage to open and read it; because she had good
reason to expect a severe reprimand from the father, whom, in spite of
their mutual love, she had been persistently disobeying for the last
three months. She would have given much to recall that past, and feel
herself deserving of his commendation and such words of tender fatherly
affection as he had often addressed to her by both tongue and pen.

At last she tore open the envelope, spread out the sheet, and with
burning cheek